The Last Period of Grace
by WriterK83
Summary: Updated with a brief authors note. Continuation of Grace Period...what happens to Ziva after the bomb blast and how the death of Paula affects Tony.
1. Part 1

THIS IS FOR GRANDE!

And it's a continuation of Grace Period. We see Tony and Gibbs' reactions after Paula Cassidy died, but what about Ziva? She was standing right outside of the Mosque when the bomb blew. What if things had gone in a different direction….

…..

Life stopped for a moment.

His hands clawed at the brick wall, quickly growing hot from the heat of the lapping, blue specked frames.

His burnt cheek pressed hard against the rough brick, into the plaster and pieces of ceiling that were slowly coming apart.

And then just as quickly, life resumed. For him.

He heard a faint voice in his ear – was that, Gibbs? – lined by a persistent buzz, hoarseness.

_Paula had…_

_She jumped…_

_There was nothing I could have…_

_Was there something I could have…_

He slowly peeled himself off the brick, the hidden door that only opened from the other side, the one the terrorist had crept out of, bomb strapped to his chest.

_Paula had…_

_I didn't…_

What he didn't want was to see her on the other side. Victims of a bombing – especially those designed by terrorists to take no prisoners – were not pretty.

It was even worse when it was someone you know. Knew.

A loud "HEY" pierced through the buzzing, and he suddenly found sounds and sights returning.

Only a few men remained in the mosque, and those who did were shouting and running.

Gibbs was staring directly at him.

"Tony." His boss' voice was firm and even, willing Tony to stay focused, on point. Anything less and he'd be yanked out of the field faster than…

_Paula had jumped. _

_Into the arms of a terrorist. _

"Get Ziva. Ducky and McGee on their way."

Tony glanced slightly to his left, to the door that hid a now dead fire. Two charred bodies.

"Need you both. Here. Now."

And then he separated. "Right away, boss."

Brushed ceiling dust off his shoulder and stalked out of the mosque.

…..

She wasn't outside and he was surprised to hear his voice sharp, gruff when he spoke. "Ziva!"

He was surprised to find himself annoyed that she was detracting attention from…

_Paula. _

Sirens approached in the distance as he rounded the corner, inhaling dark, thick smoke and the smell of charred bodies.

His voice louder this time. "ZIVA!"

And then, he saw….

At first he wasn't sure what he was looking at. The form was still, obviously human. He thought it might have been the terrorist's accomplice, or an innocent bystander.

Until he saw the four letters, stark white against the black jacket. _NCIS_.

Until he saw a loose curl, dark and silky, poking out from underneath a charred hat.

And then he saw the blood.

And life stopped for a moment.

He wasn't aware that he was all of a sudden kneeling on the dusty sidewalk, pressing one hand into the gush of blood coming from her stomach. The other, hovering over her face to feel for breath.

And then just as quickly, with a tickle of hot air, life resumed. For him. For her.

_It __**has **__to be both of us. _

He left bloodstains on the pound and one keys – Gibbs on speed dial. He didn't wait for his boss to bark when he heard the click of an answered phone.

"Ziva's down. Need medics on the north side of the Mosque. Now."

Tony was stripping off his shirt, placing it over Ziva's open wound and visually assessing her eerily still body for other injuries, when Gibbs rounded the corner.

Tony glanced up only momentarily when he heard the uncharacteristic, anxious bite in Gibbs' voice.

"ETA 2 minutes."

"She's unconscious. Something from the blast pierced her stomach." Tony's lips and brows furrowed, fueled by worry and loss. "She's losing a lot of blood, Gibbs."

Tony wasn't sure his boss had heard him. Gibbs held one hand over her nostrils as Tony had, checking for breath. "Ziva, c'mon."

Gibbs' eyes scanned up and down her body, frustrated by her silence, lack of response.

"Wrist's broken," he muttered, noticing the odd bend, angle of the slim bones.

He placed his hands over Tony's, offering his own jacket to cover the shirt, now soaked through. And tried once again, voice forceful. "Ziver. C'mon. Open'er eyes."

Stillness. Silence save for the quick intake of Tony's breath as the rise and fall of Ziva's chest slowed.

She was bleeding out.

"Where's the damn medic," Tony growled through clenched teeth.

And then he heard her.

"Mmmmmm." Her eyes flicked, opened once and then closed again. "Ohhhh. Ow."

"Ziver," Gibbs clenched her shoulder with one hand, her chin with the other. "Stay with us."

Again, her eyes opened and shut. "Ziver, open your eyes." His voice sliced through the fog in her mind. She tried to move, but everything, her lips, hands, legs, felt so heavy.

Paralyzed.

"Ohhhh." The low moan escaped her again.

Tony didn't turn when the ambulance pulled up beside him.

He didn't acknowledge the medics' shouts.

But he did move when he felt the last breath escape her.

When once more that night, life stopped.

…

A/N: Alright readers – thoughts? Do I continue and close out with another chapter or two? I'm a little iffy about this one, so I'm just gonna say, I need a good 9 – 12 replies to continue. Yep, I said it. Reviews make me feel good AND let me know that people aren't just skimming the story, but actually enjoying it.

So just let me know lovelies!


	2. Part 2

Here's the second part, though before you read, a quick shoutout and thanks to my lovely reviewers:

Mogget0607, GrassyNight, FreshPrinceofBally, grace.06, cupid10, alyzabeth, thinkgreen, Antoinette marie, petuniatc, ., blarney, Ghdd, Diana teo, DS2010, Grande.

…..

The Last Period of Grace Part 2

It takes her life, teetering on the edge, to make you realize how much each stab, each whirl, of the siren hurts.

How it slices through your average passerby, unaffected, while inside your world is slowly tearing at the seams.

This is what Tony thought of, in the ambulance.

It hadn't been a question, really. He neither asked for permission nor acknowledged his boss as he helped the paramedics lift the steely rims of the stretcher with his numb, bloody hands, and then hopped in after Ziva.

He held her good hand as they rode, and concentrated on the paramedics working, her vitals. Analyzing whether the steady beeps of the machine were a good sign, or what a slight twitch of her hand meant.

Concentrating helped him forget how…

_Paula had jumped. _

_Ziva had fallen. _

_Paula had died. _

_Ziva had…_

Opened her eyes.

"Ziva," Tony spoke, as he felt something in his chest swell, and a little bit of the breath he had suddenly realized he was holding, release. A medic brushed past him, reaching for gauze in the back of the truck.

Though she made no movement, he could see words form at the back of her throat.

It was a helpless feeling, to sit there. See her hooked to machines, drenched in blood and in pain. Confused.

It was a helpless feeling, to listen to the medic speak to her. "Ms. David? Stay with us, Ms. David. We're bringing you to WHC – almost there."

It was a helpless feeling to know that you had no control over whether she lived or died. And those who did have control? To them, Ziva would just be another body. They don't know how vulnerable the world would suddenly be, how much her laugh would be missed.

Tony saw her eyes searching his face, and he managed a smile, as if Ziva had simply woken up from a nap. He leaned in closer, spoke softly. "Hang in there, Zee, ok? Are you in pain?"

He saw the words form again, unspoken.

And then her eyes closed. And the machine beeped faster.

It takes her life, slowly bleeding out, to make you realize that you would gladly trade places.

It takes seeing her, wheeled out of the back of the ambulance and into the closed doors of the emergency room, for you to realize.

That this feeling?

Is love.

….

An hour after the bombing, the case was no longer theirs. Tony had been pulled, naturally, after Paula's death. Ziva was clearly out, and with the rest of the team more focused on the emergency room then a suicide bomber, Vance had made a decision Gibbs was glad he didn't have to.

So here they sat. Gibbs, Tony, McGee. Five hours into Ziva's surgery that had started off as exploratory and turned into a touch or go operation to fix her liver, torn by a piece of debris during the bomb blast.

Ducky and Palmer called every hour. They had a morgue full of burned bodies, and with one of them Paula, Vance wasn't about to call in for backup.

Abby was under the same orders. She was knee deep in bomb fragments, fingerprint identifications and…

There she stood. Tony pulled his head from his hands as he heard the waiting room door swing open.

She wore a black skirt, lined with a pink ruffle, and a tight black t-shirt with a glaring white skull. She was biting her lower lip and her voice was eerily calm.

"How is she?"

"No news, Abs." said Gibbs, as he held out his left arm to her.

"Ziva is strong. She'll be ok," said Abby, speaking each word with care, as if anything less might send bad vibes Ziva's way.

Tony remained silent, without movement as he watched the scientist. Her hope irritated him. On a day like today, a day where one had died and another was too close, hope seemed unreachable.

Or maybe, he was just irritated that even with Ziva laying on the operating table, cut open and barely living, he couldn't find any hope to hold onto.

And Abby took her place with the group, folding underneath Gibbs' arm, her head on his shoulder.

And together they sat. And waited.

...

It was past dark out when he came in, wearing scrubs flecked with blood like they do in the movies.

Gibbs was the first to stand. Face unreadable, no on would ever guess that for the past five hours he had been praying to Shannon and Kelly. If another daughter were to steal away from him, he knew this one would leave earth lost, unsure of her place. She'd need a mother figure, a family that didn't involve Ari or any of the fallen, dark Mossad.

The three stood after him. Abby, her fear and worry and terror - _Every day you go out there. Every day there is a chance that one of you won't come back - _suppressed as best she could by hope. Trust in science and medicine, trust in Ziva's strength.

McGee, licking his lips and shifting on his feet. He honestly couldn't fathom how beautiful, sweet Ziva could be taken away from three men who needed her so desperately, all for different reasons.

And Tony. Grappling with shock. Absorbing loss. Focused on breathing in and out slowly, to control his shaking limbs and will away tears that clogged in the back of his throat.

Gibbs spoke first. "How is she doc?"

"Ziva made it through surgery..."

Gibbs exhaled.

Abby half fell, half squeezed McGee's shoulders in relief. His face broke into a huge smile.

And for a second time that day, Tony lost the ability to focus on anything outside of his own thoughts. He drowned out the doctor's explanation that Ziva's liver had been repaired. That she was resting, as comfortably as possible, and would be in the hospital for close to a week, if not longer. The mention of her broken wrist that would leave her on desk duty for roughly two months felt like it was coming from the other side of a thick, brick wall.

_Ziva was ok. _

_Paula had..._

_But Ziva was...ok. _

And suddenly Tony wanted nothing more than to touch her. Maybe it was the movie buff in him - who could refuse a damsel in distress - or maybe it was a recent revelation that his care for Ziva was more than just friends and partners.

"Can we see her?"

The doctor nodded, looking over the group. "Two at a time, and only a few minutes. She's down the hall, in room 204."

The group looked at each other, and then at Tony, as he walked out of the waiting room and down the hall, toward room 204.

…..

Thanks all! Another chapter should be coming soon.

Two notes: One, WHC is Washington Hospital Center. Two, please excuse any medical mistakes!


	3. Author's Note

Sorry if this is annoying, but quick author's note that I wanted to update everyone on.

First this story is AU – I have no idea what it means but gather it's when you change basic facts from the show. So in this story, Tony is not with Jeanne (I did not like that relationship!) and Vance is the director (I did this one unknowingly – definitely need to brush up on my NCIS history!).

Thanks to a couple readers for pointing this out. Should have the next chapter up by tomorrow morning!


	4. Part 3

You guys, this chapter kind of sucks so please give me some love so that I'm motivated to write the fourth and final installment. What do you want to see happen here? You tell me and I write it.

And, a huge thanks to my lovely readers: petuniatc (for letting me know that this is AU), Grande (for giving me the wonderful story idea), LunaZola (for picking out and sharing a specific portion that she loved), Betherzz (for always reading and replying and offering wonderful insight), GrassyNight (for sharing a specific portion), Mogget067 (for being a faithful reader and sorry about the cliffhanger ), ncis29 (for the fabulous feedback and you'll have to wait to see if Ziva is paralyzed!), jaimee01 (for agreeing that we don't like Tony with Jeanne), Migalouch (for explaining AU), Diana teo (for being a faithful reader and offering input into the AU scenario).

And Fictionnaire – sorry that you had to read the first two parts before finding out no Jeanne. Let me know if there is anything I can do to make it up to you!

…..

You can never prepare enough to see anyone you love hooked to machines. Not breathing on her own.

But Ziva? It was the first thing Tony thought as he stood just inside the door to room 204. For a girl who'd rather show her naked body than an ounce of weakness, breathing with the assistance of a machine would have sent Ziva into an overcompensating frenzy, dragging Tony to the gym to grapple or out to the shooting range.

But then Tony remembered. Ziva didn't - and wouldn't for awhile - have the strength to do any of that for. Frankly, she might not even have the strength to care.

He felt a hand fold over his shoulder. Squeeze.

Tony didn't have to look to know it was Gibbs.

They stood like that, for a solid minute, watching her, before making their way carefully to the bedside. Tony took the right side without thinking, watching as Gibbs picked up her only good hand. And so Tony traced her fingers sticking out from the cast, eyes trained as Gibbs kissed the back of her hand, letting their intertwined fingers linger against his cheek.

"Welcome back, Ziver," he said in a voice that gave way to exactly how tolling the afternoon had been.

Tony tried to remember how he would have acted when Ziva was just his partner. When he wasn't filled with an uncontrollable urge to fix everything for her, to run to hell and back again if it mean releasing one ounce of pain that he knew shook through her.

But in all honesty, he didn't know what to say, what to do. And he was afraid to test the waters with Gibbs in the room.

So he continued to stroke her fingers, his mind screaming everything his lips couldn't. _Please don't leave me. _

He moved to the left side of Ziva's bed after Gibbs left, Abby sitting down in Tony's still warm seat.

She placed a small hand against Ziva's cheek. "Hi, Ziva."

She looked at Tony and gave a small half smile, raising her eybrows as if to say, _It's your turn to say something, Tony. _

But he simply looked down at Ziva, studying the rise and fall of her chest. The tube snaking out of her mouth.

"I knew you'd be ok, Ziva," Abby continued. "I mean, this team would be nothing without you! Who would stand up for McGee, keep Tony in check, tug at Gibbs' soft spot? And I never took you up on teaching me how to fight - or, at least, defend myself - so we still have to do that. Really, Ziva, I promise, and..."

A lone tear escaped the corner of Abby's right eye as she stopped abruptly, though she didn't bother to brush it away. She let it slide down, slowly, before falling onto the shoulder of Ziva's hospital gown. She wanted to ask Tony what came next, she wanted to tell him that seeing Ziva so small, hurt, vulnerable. It scared her. But admitting any of that would bring negativity into the room, and frankly, Abby didn't think Ziva could survive much more.

When McGee came, he matched Tony's uncomfortable unsureness. He stood in the doorway for a minute, watching Tony and Ziva, before the senior agent finally looked up.

"It's ok, Tim," said Tony, meeting the third agent's eyes.

And McGee cautiously made his way to Ziva's side, sinking into the chair, letting his eyes roam over the machines, up and down her body.

It was the first moment that evening that Tony finally felt sure, in charge, control of something. "You can talk to her, McGee."

The junior agent cleared his throat and nodded. "Ziva, uh.."

He looked up at Tony. "Can she hear me?"

Tony thought for a moment. Hesitated. "I'm not really sure...but if she can, I'm glad we're talking."

"Ziva, I, uh, I really need you to come back to work," McGee let out a nervous chuckle as he spoke. "You can't leave me for too long with just Tony."

If it was any other day Tony would have jumped to defend. But tonight, he only smiled and squeezed Ziva's hand tighter. "He's right, Zee, without you to torment, all my energy will go into McGee."

The two male agents met eyes over her motionless body.

Tony knew the words were coming - _Tony, is she really going to make it - _and he shook his head sternly at McGee.

_Don't say it, Probie. _

Tim nodded and sat stiffly for a minute, picking at the peeling plastic on the cushioned chair. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Tony hold Ziva's hand against his cheek. Watched him watch her face.

"Tony, should we go check in with Gibbs and Ducky?" McGee finally asked.

"Go ahead," replied Tony, indifferent.

McGee stood. "Uh, Tony, maybe we should let Ziva rest quietly."

Tony's eyes flashed anger, annoyance when he looked up. "She's my _partner, _McSensitive. Not leaving."

McGee pursed his lips, looked to the floor. "Are you sure that's all it is, Tony?"

It would have been a perfect excuse to finally get mad at someone, to finally have a place to direct all of his anger over the day's events.

But Tony only took a deep breath and spoke through clenched teeth, trying to make his voice sound as even and calm as possible. "I've got my cell if you need to reach me."

With that, Tim placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezed gently for a second. "See you tomorrow, Ziva."

Long after Tim left, Tony continued to sit, hold Ziva's hand. He ignored the cramp that was forming in his lower back, his full bladder, his growling stomach. He focused on her, as the sun lowered outside, dimming the hospital room so that the green and red lights of the machine shone brightly around Ziva.

It was a steady reminder of what was keeping her alive. A steady reminder that she was still here.

And for the first time that night, Tony began to talk.

At first, it was superficial conversation. The movie he saw last night, his dad's latest escapades. He told her of a prank he was dying to play on McGee, or a recipe he thought they could try together.

And then he hesitated. Spoke.

"C'mon, Zee, you've gotta wake up. I can't…I can't do this, without you."

...

When the nurse came in, she seemed almost afraid to speak. "Sir, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave."

Tony didn't look at her, but held his breath. _I can't leave her. _

"Visiting hours were up two hours ago. You can come back at 8 tomorrow."

Tony thought about fighting, flashing his badge. Throwing some weight around so that he'd have unlimited access to her room. But in doing so, it felt like he'd be angering the powers that be, take their energy away from healing Ziva.

And so he took another look at her still body. And left. Retreating to the darkened waiting room, empty except for a worrisome trio. Gibbs. Abby. McGee.

Tony joined them. Gibbs handed him a cup of coffee. And together, they waited.

...

By the third day the waiting room group had somewhat dismantled. Abby and McGee came twice a day, together. Spent time with Ziva and then even more time with Tony or Gibbs or whoever from their team was at the hospital.

Gibbs came once or twice a day, but spent hours. In Ziva's room, in the lobby. Sometimes he simply strolled the hospital, walking past the newborn babies and eyeing from a distance new, happy parents.

He had been there, once.

And Tony, he only left briefly, twice, to shower and change.

At first, the doctors had thought Ziva would wake up within a day. But now that three had passed, they were starting to talk of a permanent coma, decisions that needed to be made. The blood loss was one thing, the infection they were trying to treat another. But apparently, the head injury and swelling was much worse, than originally thought.

On the second day Eli sent a Mossad operative, to assess the situation. Tony stood in the doorway, arms crossed, as the man sat by Ziva's bedside and spoke quietly in Hebrew.

When the man had left, Tony called Gibbs. He wasn't exactly sure why - a man has a right to check on his daughter, after all, even if by proxy - but he called Gibbs nonetheless.

It was a rare occasion, this third day, for the four of them to be sitting together in the hospital room. Abby and McGee had brought pizzas and coffee, Gibbs had brought a comforting hand, squeeze of the shoulder. And Tony, he had left the hospital room without protest, as he did yesterday when Gibbs forced him to go home to sleep, shower and change.

The four looked up as Dr. Reynolds walked through the swinging doors. They knew all of her doctors – and nurses too – by name now.

"She's awake," he simply said.

And as a wave of relief crossed Gibbs' face and Abby broke out into a huge smile, crushing McGee into a giant hug.

And Tony? He got up and strode past the group, past Dr. Reynolds, and down the hall toward room 204.

…..

Remember to let me know where you want to see this go, because otherwise I honestly am going to have a hard time/might not finish. How does the relationship with Tony/Ziva end, what is Ziva's recovery like – where does she go, when does she leave the hospital. TELL me!


End file.
